


Everything

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (Danny can't stop thinking about Steve), (and a little bit silly too), (and they haven't told the team yet), (but it's new), Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Sexual Frustration, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 02:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Everything’s different now they’re together....





	Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trinipedia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinipedia/gifts).



> I was working on several other things, but everything stalled, and I had no words, only feeling crummy and not writing. And I was trying to cheer myself up with music, and heard Michael Bublé’s “Everything,” and I just needed to write something for the boys from it... and slowly, a little bit at a time, this seeped thru.  
> 
> (For T, once more, for talking me thru stuff in the middle of the night. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.)
> 
> Hope this brings a little smile to your day......
> 
> _I’m not caught up with the show, so shhhh please._

It’d been a rough month. Couple of months. And somehow, in the midst of it, he and Steve had finally found each other. Maybe it was a day that got too emotional, or a night that got too drunk, but they’d wound up so close it only seemed right to kiss, so they had, and there hadn’t really been time to look back, so they’d kept going forward, little bit by little bit till it was no longer possible to believe they weren’t in a relationship. 

Problem was, this rough month was doing its best to keep them apart. Cases that split them up, nights that barely saw sleep. Maybe it’d only been a few nights since they’d found each other in bed, but it felt like too long and Danny was starting to get peevish. 

They hadn’t told the team yet, so that made things a little more awkward.... But Danny’d catch Steve watching him, from the other side of the office, in the middle of a briefing, across the table at Kamekona’s... and his heart would just swell, and he’d think surely he was about to burst. Those little smug looks, glances snuck, they were fuel, and they to a certain extent sustained him, but also they made him feel like he was made of glass, and one wrong move and he’d shatter. 

Sometimes Steve would touch him, different from how he used to. Soft, lingering touches, probably only half conscious, a hand on his lower back, resting against his thigh, brushing past the back of his neck. Only when they were alone, so frustratingly not nearly enough. He wasn’t sure if he’d expected Steve to be more tactile and demonstrative or less— there hadn’t really been much time for thinking about expectations— but they’d both been holding back from their normal public touching, simply because it was maddening. To touch but not enough, the wrong way, utterly unsatisfying. 

If anyone’d noticed, they hadn’t said anything— but everyone had been just as stressed and distracted as they had, so for now they were safe. As in, not being called out for not having shared about the new turn their relationship had taken. Not that Danny thought for one moment the reactions would be much of anything, frankly. A cursory nod and a “yep, ‘bout time, too,” really was the most he expected. Though he was maybe underestimating Tani. She might get more upset, especially with Steve, for not saying something sooner. Possibly for reasons of betting pools. 

Danny sometimes wondered if Chin and Kono still participated, long distance, in that particular office tradition. 

Well, he figured he’d find out eventually, because they were going to slip up and let something un-excuse-away-able happen, and probably fairly soon. An unthinking kiss, a spoken endearment, an intimate touch.... Impossible to say which it would be, impossible to deny it was inevitable.

If Danny was a betting man, which he wasn’t, but if he were, he’d have put his money on Steve being the one to slip, and words being his downfall. He’d never have guessed it of him, but Steve was very much a fan of the pet names, spoken sweetnesses Danny’d been utterly smitten by. Danny still called him “babe,” it was habit too long established to do away with at this point, but Steve... Steve switched out his favored “buddy” for a whole string of things—honey, baby, sweetheart to name a few, not to mention more nonsensical things, especially after drinking, which reminded Danny of his fabulous “oopsie” moment. But he thought his favorite was when Steve was nearly unconscious, late at night or early in the morning, pressing up against Danny, or pulling him close, and he’d whisper things Danny was sure he was mostly unaware of, often in languages Danny didn’t recognize. But gradually, Steve’d started slipping into saying “honey” at the most inopportune moments. (Meaning when a kiss was just not an okay idea. Like in the middle of a crime scene, or once during an interrogation.)

So, yeah. Danny was pretty sure that was how they’d out themselves to the rest of the team.

Was it completely awful that he kind of looked forward to that? Although, it half occurred to him there was the distinct possibility that even if Steve did call him “honey” in front of the whole team, they might not actually make anything of it. Which probably said a whole lot about their relationship in the first place.

Thing is, stuff _was_ different. And not just because of the sex and all the kissing. Though, god, that was amazing. Absolutely the best sex of his life. Steve put the same enthusiasm and can-do attitude he put towards everything he did, he put all that same intensity, that same drive, that same verve—he put all that towards a veritable worship of Danny’s body. So, yeah, that was different. His possessiveness, too, found expression in the way he held Danny—kissed him, commanded his presence in bed. He was bossy, yes. Demanding, yes. But also softly pliant if Danny gave him the right look. He gave over absolute control in bed in a way he never did anywhere else in life, which Danny supposed was only fitting. He was still working out what to do with that—it wasn’t something Danny was at all used to, but he absolutely was interested in finding out what it might lead to.

These were all, of course, very dangerous thoughts to be having in the middle of a work day, and fortunately Danny was at his desk, so if he palmed himself though his pants and made himself focus on the mind-numbing paperwork glaring at him from his computer screen, well no one would be the wiser.

Only it didn’t really help.

Nothing helped. 

God, he needed some Steve.

As if on cue, Steve walked by his office just then, and he caught Danny’s eye, making a quick kissy face that should have had Danny laughing or rolling his eyes, but it instead half melted his heart, half made the problem in his pants worse. He groaned involuntarily and redoubled his efforts on that damn paperwork. But he was not going to be able to hold out much longer. He was beginning to think they’d out themselves not by Steve slipping up verbally but by Danny throwing the towel in and backing Steve up against his door and kissing the smug out of him. 

The thing was, this whole idea, that Danny could kiss Steve, theoretically any time he wanted... and not that he was going to. But he _could_.... Well, shit. That was kind of hard to deal with. 

Kind of like other things that were growing increasingly hard to deal with.

Fuck.

...And that didn’t help either.

Lou brought them all sandwiches for lunch, which provided some much needed relief of an almost helpful sort, and fortunately no one expected anyone to be eating anywhere other than at their desks while they kept working. It had been ages since they’d taken a real lunch break. If only he could get the rest of the team outta the damn office.... 

Yeah. It was growing increasingly likely Danny’d be the one to show their hand. And not, like Steve’s verbal slip up might, with any room for interpretation. Because Steve calling Danny a pet name could easily be par for the course in their relationship as it’d been for eight years, but Danny groping Steve while he backed him up against a wall and kissed him so hard his toes curled in his damn combat boots, well. There’s pretty much only one way to interpret that. 

So, yeah. Knowing he could kiss his partner at any time was one thing. 

Being able to stand _not_ doing it at every given moment.... Not so much a skill Danny’d managed to conquer yet. 

Maybe one he wasn’t really interested in cultivating. 

Maybe he should just retire right now. 

One way or another, he vowed then and there, before the end of the day, he was getting a naked Steve in his bed and beginning to make up for some of the sex they’d not been having this week. _His bed_... Danny’s bed, Steve’s bed, heck, Steve’s office sofa was looking pretty dang nice right about now....

So of course that’s when Steve commed him and asked if he could “step into my office for a sec?”

Danny had a flash of a hazy movie scene where the boss shoves his secretary against his desk whilst providing dictation. _Dick-tation_ , Danny’s adolescent mind helpfully amended. 

Fucking hormones. 

“Sure, boss,” Danny replied, and hoped everyone else would stay firmly put behind their desks, as he walked, awkwardly, the fortunately very few feet between their two offices. Danny’d always been grateful for that admittedly small amount of space because sometimes it gave him just enough of a cushion, enough of a sense that he and Steve didn’t literally just live on top of one another. But lately, shit, he was beginning to wish for adjoining rooms. Like in a hotel suite. Like where illicit affairs can be easily carried out undercover of dark, through those double doors that both open to reveal your unannounced lover....

Seriously. No work was getting done here anyway. They should, for the good of the team, take ten minutes in the dang supply closet and just admit it would help Danny be able to fucking focus for five minutes on something other than Steve.

Steve who knew exactly what he was doing calling Danny into his office.

“This sucks,” Steve said, as soon as the door was shut. 

“Yep,” Danny managed in a strained voice, which is when Steve noticed the swell in Danny’s pants, and returned that groan Danny’d made earlier at Steve’s blown kiss.

_Blown_... goddammit mind, not helping. 

“I wish I could help you with that right now, baby,” Steve whispered, moving tantalizingly closer as he did, his own pants swelling helpfully. 

Yep, helping. All of this was helping so damn much. 

Shit.

“I don’t care what happens today, tonight, if we have to ditch the team, if we have to make up an excuse, if it’s not till past midnight... you, me, bed, lots of sex. Okay?”

Danny swallowed and nodded wordlessly. 

Steve moved closer. “You’d better get out of here before I take matters into my own hands....”

Well that _would_ help, Danny wanted to point out. Instead he grunted, clenching his fists in frustration. How had they ever thought this was sustainable? But that’s just it. They hadn’t thought. If times had been just a little less stressful when this had all started... well it probably never would have started. 

But now that they had started... well fucking stopping just wasn’t in the cards, alright? 

Probably that had been inevitable. Start it and begin the flow of something pent up, with such a back log, it’d take more than eight years to catch up to the spot they would have been at if they _had_ started eight years ago. 

They’d sure made a brilliant start, that first weekend. They’d barely left the bed, let alone the house, and since then, in the little time they’d had, a brilliant effort had been put forth towards the rectification of the situation.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

Danny felt sometimes like he may as well be on fire, for all the good normal functioning was doing him. It was just so intense. And he was addicted. He needed Steve’s touches like he needed coffee—he was utterly failing at functioning without them, and he wanted to hate himself for that.

But he didn’t.

He only wanted more. 

If he had more, though—and by more he figured probably he meant _enough_ which was undoubtedly unfair as he couldn’t imagine that being something that was even remotely achievable, at least not now—but if he did, he imagined he’d be in essence like his old self, his pre-sleeping with Steve self... only with the benefit of lots of sex and far less Steve-related frustration.

Which of course was sheer fantasy, because first of all he was probably unalterably affected by this change in their relationship. But second, Steve was, after all, still Steve. And he was not suddenly less prone to jumping off buildings just because Danny’d been in his bed the night before and maybe would punish him by not returning to it the evening after such a jump. 

(He would, though. If only to better scold, and perhaps extract a guilt payment in the form of sexual favors.)

So he actually started to wonder if maybe what he needed to find instead was some new form of normal. Or maybe that was just too ridiculous a notion so soon in the relationship. But eventually things would stabilize, right? It couldn’t stay this unbalanced forever. Couldn’t keep feeling like everything hinged on how much time he’d spent in Steve’s bed in the past twenty four hours, couldn’t keep being utterly focused on Steve like he was the center of everything, the total focus of his being. 

If he could just get a little bit more, maybe he could start to find that balance.

But then again. Maybe not enough of him wanted that. Because the thing is. It was kind of nice feeling this way. It was kind of electrifying. Energizing. He felt younger, more alive. More positive, more hopeful than he had in a long time. And maybe that was something he was treasuring, above this kind of chaos of _want_ that kept threatening to overwhelm him. Maybe he _liked_ it this way. 

And that was a kind of scary thought. 

It had occurred to him that maybe he was becoming more like Steve. As though somehow Steveness was contagious. Or like, sexually transmitted. Not that he was likely to jump off a building any time soon, but that energy, that electricity, that vibrancy... it didn’t entirely feel like _him_. But it did feel a lot like Steve.

He’d even been thinking about getting a tattoo. Which was weird for him. Not that he didn’t like tattoos. He liked them on Steve. He’d, uh, he’d kind of always liked that. Not that it was a thing, or anything. But maybe he’d only dated guys who had tattoos. Maybe. And, yep, he’d noticed Steve’s right away—hard not too when the guy had such a propensity to take off his shirt when it wasn’t really called for. But, yeah, he’d noticed and admired Steve’s personal artwork maybe very early on. And, okay, he enjoyed the liberty he now could take, of tracing their outlines with his finger... or his tongue. Alright, that was hot, so sue him. But it’s one thing to admire your boyfriend’s tatts, and another to begin to want one yourself.

If he started swimming in the mornings, just shoot him, okay?

He’d also begun to understand the vital importance of protein at breakfast. But in his defense, that was mostly because he’d begun to appreciate the joys of early morning, post-swim, salty and wet, very enthusiastic sex. After a workout like a certain SEAL provided, sugary carbs were simply not restorative enough.

He also might have found a new appreciation for pineapple. But he wouldn’t admit that. 

Not long after Danny’d gone back to his office, they got called out on a case that managed to distract Danny from his thoughts for a good chunk of time, bar a few moments here and there, when for example he couldn’t help but notice the way Steve moved through a crime scene, senses on high alert, aware at all times where Danny was— not in some new and dangerous way, but in the same way he always had, just maybe a little more intently, a little more closely. Or how he stood perhaps even closer than usual at the tech table as they discussed options for their next move.

It was late and they were exhausted when they made their way, a little battered and bruised and bloody, back to the office to await the next stage... and to await the return of the rest of the team, who’d had to go to the other side of the island. 

While they waited, and probably they should have eaten, or at least had something to drink, but the most they could manage to do was to sit together on the sofa in Steve’s office. Steve slouched down, sliding his legs out in front of him, while Danny slung his legs over the arm of the sofa and allowed himself to lay his head in Steve’s lap, breathing out a sigh of relief—either at letting his body rest or at the much-longed-for contact, even he wasn’t sure which. 

Steve’s hand came to rest on Danny’s head. Not bold enough to muss his hair, but needing the extra contact, needing the closeness. He brushed gently at Danny’s temples, just the lightest touch, and it surprised him, and maybe they were just too tired, and certainly their bodies weren’t getting any untoward ideas for once which was a bit of a relief to be honest, but it wasn’t an electric feeling of tortuously not being enough—it didn’t make him pulse with needing more, it just was comforting, soothing, and it occurred to him that while that comfort wouldn’t do anything for the physical bruises they would no doubt have the next day, it just might do everything for the emotional ones.

Nights and mornings after cases like these were often hard enough on Danny. They were almost always harder on whomever shared Danny’s bed. Because there’s just no possible way to be as understanding, no way to get it enough for that to help, in any real way. And usually there was guilt, that Danny would be distant, or too emotional, or just an ass, or need to talk about it—which he almost never did because some things just do not need sharing, don’t need to be drawn out, prolonged—or need to _not_ talk... which was often worse.

But Steve got it. He got it all. Maybe not on exactly the same level, not exactly the same way that Danny did. And Danny couldn’t ever quite get exactly the things that most got to Steve. But it was closer than anyone else ever, and maybe that would make all the difference. Having someone next to you in bed who just _knew_. And you could just _be_. How healing might that feel? It seemed, in that moment, that it might in fact mean everything to him.

As tired as they were, they weren’t drifting off, but they were probably a little lost in their little bubble of comforting touches, such that they didn’t notice when Junior and Tani made it back to the office... not until Junior opened the door to Steve’s office and stepped inside, only to freeze completely when he saw the scene before him on the sofa. Tani wasn’t expecting his sudden cessation of movement, and she bumped right into him, swearing softly and muttering about break lights and what the fuck, and then she stepped around him and saw them.

Danny hadn’t moved to sit up, and Steve hadn’t withdrawn his hand, they just... well, there wouldn’t have been any point, and besides, maybe they were too caught up in how helpful their moment was feeling.

Junior’s face was absolutely still and maybe not exactly shocked, but certainly stunned. But Tani’s went from irritation and exhaustion to sheer delight in about one second flat. She stood there grinning for a couple more, then simply launched into telling them what they’d uncovered.

During her entire briefing, Steve kept his hand on Danny’s head, and Danny might have felt unprofessional for having his head in their boss’ lap, but not enough to move. When she was done, Steve lifted his hand, and Danny did, regretfully, sit up. They both spent a few moments processing what she’d told them, unsure what to do next.

Junior had recovered from his surprised state at some point while Tani was talking, and it was him that finally made the call: “Listen we’re not gonna get anywhere with this tonight, why don’t you two head home. Tani and I can pull up the surveillance and start to go through it. We’ll let you know if we find anything else.”

Danny had one moment of thinking Steve wouldn’t allow that, wouldn’t be okay stepping away from this, leaving it to the kids. But just as he was about to say “no” for him, Steve bounded up from the sofa, slapped Junior on the back.

“Good man, thank you,” and he turned to offer his hand to Danny. “Come on, honey, let’s get you to bed.”

He would have blushed if he wasn’t so goddamn tired, but he took Steve’s hand gratefully, and murmured a soft “Yeah, thank you,” to Tani and Junior as Steve walked out of the office, leaving all of that so easily behind... the weight of the case utterly off his own shoulders, passed on to Junior’s, just like that.

Steve drove them back to his place, hand resting heavily on Danny’s leg the whole way. They washed each other in a shower that did not conform to Naval standards, bandaged each other’s worst injuries, talked briefly about eating and agreed they’d be sure to have a good breakfast, and tumbled into bed. Drained, sore, and maybe a bit raw from the day, but nothing like it would have been if Danny’d been on his own. And maybe it was partly the incredible warmth of Steve’s body next to his.... But he knew it was more.

“I know I’d promised you lots of sex tonight, but....”

Danny turned toward him and shook his head slowly, just once. Steve nodded. This was more important. This simple contact, their bare chests resting together, their hands finding each other and tangling, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and that would ease as they fell asleep, but for now it helped release the tension of the day. And that bled out into the bed as they fell slowly towards sleep, and maybe once or twice they woke to soft kisses, comforting shushing, a renewed grip of their hands... and all of it was so different, so healing, so wonderful.

In the morning when they woke, they did make love. Slowly, carefully, softly. And after a hearty breakfast and extra coffee, they relieved Junior and Tani, and started back up, another day, and it was just like it would have usually been, only everything was just that little bit different. When Steve went out to get them lunch, he handed Danny his with a kiss, and it was just so easy, it just felt so right. And though maybe some things would be harder, probably a lot harder, some things really would be that simple, and anyway what mattered was they’d found a new normal.

And that really was everything.


End file.
